A Christmas Puzzle
How long does Santa take to deliver his presents to all the children under the age of 12yrs on Christmas Day.
- Karl
- Karl
Labels: SharedPuzzle, thinktank
posted by Rajesh Lal at
9:20 PM
Friday, December 25, 2009
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8 Comments:
Assume:
Santa exists.
Assume no time travel (regardless of Santa's speed)
Assume children < 12 years exist on all parts of world.
Even if Santa can move at infinite velocity, for the delivery to occur on Christmas Day, he must deliver to all regions which experience the start of Christmas day at different times. Thus he must take at least 24 hours, for the pesky time zones to catch up.
Answer:
24 hours
Alternate Answer:
You still believe in Santa ?
Cam
I saw a calculation of the distance somewhere once, and this concluded with the opinion that, in order to cover this distance within 24 hours, Santa's speed was such that he would be instantly vaporised.
That's why Santa isn't real anymore. But don't tell the kids.
Oh, I think I may see the trick. He is supposed to deliver presents on Christmas Eve (the night prior to Christmas Day). Thus on Christmas Day he is back at the North Pole with Mrs. Claus resting i.e. on Christmas Day he is spending 0 time delivering presents.
Answer: 0
Alternate Answer:
You still believe in Santa ?
Cam
As long as Santa feels like.
It takes him no time atall, because he delives 'em on CHristmas Eve xD
he isnt real karl
Now to debate the answer...
Santa starts delivering in Kamchatka at the turn of midnight…. The race is on. He finishes at the stroke of midnight in London…. 36 hours later or 35 hours, 59 minutes, 59.99999... seconds for the pedantic.
However, for the older, more worldly wise neigh-sayers for whom Santa does not exist, he would deliver on Christmas Eve so your presents are there for you when you get out of bed.
And for those of you who don't believe in Santa, Cecil Adams says:-
Let's just say his existence can't be definitely ruled out.
I'm not saying there aren't improbable aspects to the story. You have x number of kids (even leaving out the Muslims, Shintoists, Hindus, animists, etc., who one presumes get shafted, giftwise), you have y time per visit, you have z average distance between domiciles, you have an earth of known diameter, and you have 24 hours in the day. It doesn't add up. You have the problem of access to the gift-giving venue in the absence of chimneys with fireplaces, unless we're assuming that Santa Claus oozes through the keyholes in the manner of the critter in The Abyss, which is not a pretty picture. You have the problem of what in all likelihood is the earth's single largest concentration of toy manufacturing facilities in a polar region remote from resources of every type (cold excepted), that's so carefully camouflaged as to be invisible to satellite surveillance, and that produces no detectable emissions. Although now that one thinks about it, there's that ozone hole over the south pole. Hmm.
On the other hand, consider the following:
A great many seemingly improbable events do in fact occur. Florida winning the World Series. Cleveland winning the World Series. Compared to this, what is the accurate delivery of zillions of packages in the course of a single night?
Besides, Fed Ex does it. So what if we're talking Memphis and drivers in baseball caps rather than the north pole and elves? It's the principle of the thing.
OK, so there's a certain amount of mortal participation involved. Perhaps, as a parent, you've personally done your bit to help Santa and thought you did so of your own accord. The ants in the anthill probably think they're doing it on a whim, too. But looking at the matter objectively, we can't deny that a larger purpose is at work and that we are in the service of an agency greater than ourselves.
You mean the IRS.
I mean the impulse to be generous. Three hundred sixty-four days out of the year humankind commits all manner of heinous acts. On the 365th day we give toys to the kids. I'm not saying that the latter compensates for the former. I'm not saying Adolph Hitler wouldn't have given presents to his children, if he'd had children. But come on, it's got to count for something. The giving of gifts in such a way that no credit will devolve upon ourselves is sufficiently at odds with our routine behavior as to be accounted a mystery, and we may as well give that mystery a name. Santa Claus it is.
Besides, to believe in Santa Claus is to believe in magic. The belief in magic in many respects is a pernicious thing. Because of it you've got countless multitudes thinking that aliens abduct people, that Elvis is alive, that you can earn big money stuffing envelopes in your home, and that the TV preacher can cure you if you send him 50 bucks. A certain class of persons, of whom your columnist is one, will go through their lives attempting to extinguish these foolish hopes. No doubt in the main it is good that we do so. But even the sternest among us remembers the wonder we felt as children to think there was a force having a kindly interest in us that wasn't bound by the rules of this drab world. Wherefore if there's someone who's going to say flat out that Santa Claus doesn't exist, it's not going to be me.
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